saturated...

John catches me mid-bight in one of the yummy restaurants of the Windy City

Last weekend we stayed in a hotel that was less than a block away from some of the most expensive shopping in the country. Chanel, Burberry, Tiffany, Saks, and every other designer label you can think of within walking distance of our bed. We took one whole day to "shop" with Brynley.

We walked Michigan, and I did make a stop at JCrew and LuLu Lemon, but otherwise our walk took us further north to the neighborhood boutiques and other less swanky and less expensive items for purchase. It seemed silly to go into a store where the sales staff was snooty and the socks cost more than last year's entire wardrobe...who wants to give money to a person who sizes you up when you enter the store and the size they give you? XS.

Still, in all our wandering, shopping and looking, we saturated ourselves in materialism.

We ate what we wanted. Yummy breakfast, heavy italian for lunch, yummy ice cream snacks and some very upscale chocolate. By the end of the day our pocketbook was feeling lighter but I felt considerabley weighed down.

My body was soaked in the things of the world. Looking at its fine things, eating its yummy not-so-good for you food, carrying around the knowledge that the budget book would somehow have to be reckoned with after the fun was over. It was a feeling I did not enjoy; though the darling gifts and souveneres are lovely to have and the food definitely memorable, I realize something that I don't think I've known until this point in my life.

There is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Too much good food. Too much wandering aimlessly in search of that perfect "thing" to purchase (to be fair we did have a purpose; Brynley was looking for a handbag she could bring home from her trip. We found it in the very last store we went to. Light blue with dark blue branches and little blue and yellow birds sitting on those darling branches. $30. What a bargain for the right thing, but a lot of looking to find it!)

I'm not saying I will never shop again. And I probably won't be able to resist a delicious piece of chocolate if offered one. But I learned how it feels to be distracted by stuff. It is exciting and enticing at first. Enjoyable and even inspiring to see (I now have several ideas for ways to repurpose items in my closet thanks to the beautiful shop window displays, and a very cool business idea surrounding personalized diaper bags and children's finery...) But it did not bring us closer together. It did not make us more happy, it did not bring anything lasting (even the darling handbag will not be so perfectly blue for all the time Bryn owns it. Stuff wears out, ya know?)

Returning home, I have no interest, desire or need to flip through a catalog, check out a sale or run to the mall any time sooner or later. Even in Target today (where I seldom resist a walk through the women's section) I flew right by the spring offerings with no second thought. I'm still saturated with having looked at so many things. Still satiated, like I need to dry out or dry off from all the colors and frills of shopping all day long in Chicago.